


As Easy As 1, 2, 3

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Primeval
Genre: Cutter is a good friend, Finding Love, Getting Together, Injured Characters, It's okay not to know what you're doing, Light Angst, M/M, Recovering characters, Stephen has good friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:56:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: Stephen doesn't know where his life is going any more. Turns out, that's okay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a Christmas present for the very lovely nietie who gave the prompt “Where do you think you're going?”

**One**

“Where do you think you're going?”

Stephen blinked and then stared at his hands. He wasn't sure he could answer that question; nor that he really wanted to.

“Why don't you think about it some more?” the psychiatrist suggested and Stephen nodded, because that's what he was supposed to do.

“I'll see you again next week.”

Stephen mumbled the required niceties and strode out of the room as quickly as his injuries would allow, which wasn't much.

He was annoyed to find Cutter sitting in the waiting room, and then became annoyed at himself for being annoyed so he ended up greeting Cutter with a scowl he didn't deserve.

“I...thought I'd give you a lift. As I was passing.”

Stephen leaned against his cane and raised an eyebrow. “Passing from where?”

“You know,” Cutter said, waving his arm in the general direction of somewhere that wasn't there, “just passing.”

“Do you even know what's near here?” Stephen asked, amused despite himself.

“Shops, cafes, pubs...” Cutter said, before trailing off with a laugh. “Aye, all right, I was going for the subtle approach, I'll have you know.”

Stephen laughed then, only wincing slightly at the tug to his side. “I think that's a very lost cause.”

Cutter pretended to be offended. “I do know there's a very good pub around the corner that does an excellent steak and kidney, if you fancy it?”

Stephen thought back to his unsuccessful cooking attempts that morning, where he'd become so distracted that he'd burnt his toast, turned his eggs into a congealed mess and made the worst cup of tea of his life.

“That sounds great.”

Cutter looked surprised, and Stephen couldn't blame him. Ever since he'd been released from the hospital he'd been avoiding any social events with the team, but they'd kept on trying – texts, cards, turning up on his doorstep, Tom Ryan had even managed to send a care package of books from Stephen's Amazon wish list via drone which Stephen was still trying to get his head around. They'd gone for a couple of pints and a curry before Ryan was injured by the future predator and been sent to convalesce in the Lake District, but they hadn't really had much chance to talk since Ryan had come back to active duty and Stephen had come off it.

“What do you think of Captain Ryan?” Stephen asked, as Cutter steered him in the direction of the pub.

Cutter made a sound as if his world was falling in and Stephen abruptly stopped, jiggling his leg.

“How did you know? Was it Connor? Of course it was Connor, that lad I swear if...”

“What are you taking about?” Stephen asked, when Cutter paused to take a breath.

“That Ryan and the team are waiting over at the pub for us. We thought it would be a nice surprise.” Cutter realised that Stephen wasn't walking with him and slowly backtracked. “Of course you don't need to...”

“No, no, it's fine. Of course it's fine.”

Cutter seemed mollified and made a “keep up then” gesture which Stephen rolled his eyes at, because he was supposed to. He then carefully followed Cutter into the pub and tried to work out what his feelings were.

**Two**

“Where do you think you're going?” Claudia asked as Stephen tried to slip away from the table. It was a lot harder to move discreetly with a cane and a limp and everything else he had going on.

“Toilets, if that's all right?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Claudia huffed but took her hand away from his arm so he could finish shuffling out of the booth. He was full of good food and plenty of water, since his medication was strictly no alcohol, and had actually enjoyed himself far more than he had thought he would. It had helped that Cutter had steered him to sit directly opposite Ryan so he had something nice to look at; sometimes Cutter was the most oblivious man in the universe and then others...

“Let me help,” Ryan said, suddenly just there in a way that Stephen found he could get used to.

“Thanks,” Stephen said.

“Bloody hell, Stephen Hart accepting help,” Cutter muttered to the room at large.

Stephen gave him the finger before picking up his cane and letting Ryan steer him to the toilets at the back of the pub.

Ryan looked back and suddenly laughed, the sound sending a soft flutter to Stephen's heart. “Claudia just literally rapped Cutter on the knuckles with a knife,” he explained.

Stephen laughed and leaned a little into Ryan, though he didn't need to. “Serves him right.”

Ryan hummed his agreement and held open the door. Stephen wisely opted to go into one of the stalls – truth was anything more complicated than that was out of the question right now – and Ryan went into his own stall.

Stephen chucked to himself. Listening to someone you were interested in pissing was never going to not have some sort of weirdness factor about it.

“Need a hand?” Ryan called over the stall.

“No bloody thank you,” Stephen replied, unable to finish without laughing at the absurdity of it. He could hear Ryan's echoing laugh and thought, maybe not knowing where he's going isn't going to be so bad.

**Three**

“Where do you think you're going?” Ryan asked, scooting forward on the bed to place a kiss against Stephen's spine.

Stephen closed his eyes to try and get his emotions under control. He hadn't thought he'd be going to end up in Ryan's bed after they left the pub, hadn't thought it would happen so fast or feel so right, or that he'd sleep through the night without flashes of blood settling behind his eyes.

“Breakfast?” Stephen said, making it a question at the last minute.

“Need a hand?” Ryan skimmed cold fingers against Stephen's back.

Stephen leaned back into the gesture, still not turning around. “Just need a minute,” he said, because his therapist had told him he needed to start using his words, and now was as good a time as any to put that into practice.

“Okay,” Ryan said. He pressed a kiss to Stephen's shoulder and then lay back down in the bed.

Stephen grabbed his cane and headed downstairs to the kitchen. He told himself it was all right that he didn't look around to watch how Ryan took this, that Ryan was the least judgemental person he'd ever been involved with. Still, it took him a good fifteen minutes of breathing exercises before he could get himself back under some sort of control.

After giving himself a further talking to he started to put together breakfast, thankfully it went better than the last time he'd tried, he'd even managed not to burn the tomatoes which was always his Achilles heel.

Carefully he made his way upstairs again, grateful that Ryan hadn't come looking for him. When he went into the bedroom he found Ryan reading on his kindle. The smile he gifted Stephen with made it all worthwhile.

“I could get used to this,” Ryan said, putting his kindle away.

“I'm certainly enjoying the view,” Stephen said, smiling.

Ryan languidly got up, flexed his muscles, and helped Stephen set up the tray on the bed.

They ate in companionable silence, Stephen idly wondering why this felt so right and normal and how he could ever have mistaken what he had with Helen for love.

“Hey, there, you back with me?” Ryan asked. “You zoned out a little on me there.”

“Sorry,” Stephen said. “Just. Just realising a few things about myself.”

“Yeah? Anything I need to worry about?”

“No,” Stephen said. “I'm good. We're good.”

Ryan nodded, and Stephen went back to his breakfast.

“So,” Ryan asked after a moment. “How does an after breakfast blow job sound?”

Stephen nearly chocked on his bacon, before checking to see if Ryan was serious.

“I think I can work with that,” he replied with a grin.

In fact, he thought he could work with pretty much anything the world had to throw at him now, and wherever it wanted to lead him.


End file.
